172 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



" Not if I know it ! " blurted out Travers, "I— I— I mean, I 

 don't think there's anything very big to jump about this part 

 of the country. Is there? " he added, with a ring of anxiety 

 in his voice. 



" Oh, I heard Mr. Eonald Dennison say the other day that 

 he considered this quite the biggest country in the Haughty- 

 shire Hunt ! " 



Binkie's heart sank into his boots. 



" Wouldn't it be better fun if we went for a drive '? " he 

 said. Then, with an air of heroic self-sacrifice, he added — 



" Bother hunting ! I don't care a bit about giving up just 

 one day of it. I can always hunt — I can't always go for a 

 drive with Miss Lumpkin, can I?" and the vacant blue eye 

 ' goggled ' and rolled as he directed what he thought to be a 

 fatal glance at the lady, who coyly hung her head and blushed 

 becomingly, as she replied — 



" Oh, I couldn't think of letting you give up a day's hunting 

 just for poor little me ! and w^e've heard so much about your 

 reckless riding on that day your dear chestnut horse fell into 

 the dyke, that we all look "forward to seeing you jump the big 

 places to-morrow." 



" Oh, really ! " Dismal in the extreme was the tone of his 

 voice. He felt a kind of dryness about the lips, and a slight 

 clamminess about his fingers which he had never noticed 

 before. 



They were sitting on a deep, comfortable window-seat 

 whilst this conversation was taking place. The lady's white 

 hands lay idly in her lap. Binkie's had hitherto been in his 

 pockets, but now he drew them out, and allowed his own left 

 hand^ — fat, red, and warm as usual — to wander idly away in 



